


Lavender Skies

by roxxiemundar



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Gen, Golden route, Major Original Character(s), Original Character(s), Platonic Female/Female Relationships, Platonic Relationships, Tags May Change, Twin Byleth, mostly - Freeform, no beta we die like Glenn, references to other fanfiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:47:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23223499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roxxiemundar/pseuds/roxxiemundar
Summary: The year 1180 was an auspicious occasion across all of Fodlan. The brightest minds in all three countries would convene at the Officer's Academy at Garreg Mach to finish their studies before leading their countries into what could hopefully be a prosperous unity and golden age.Right?
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Original Female Character(s), Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Original Female Character(s), Sylvain Jose Gautier/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This prologue is meant to give some insight into the main original character, Eislynn, as well as give some references to an outside work that is Miklan centric, because I want Sylvain to actually have one family member that cares for him in some regard. :') That work is ["Heartlines"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20545145/chapters/48768299) by dedizenoflight here on AO3. It is a wonderful read so I suggest you take a look at it. Other than that there will be a few more OCs introduced, but not many more. 
> 
> Next chapter we get into Garreg Mach and the shenanigans that will ensue.

**1176- 1st day of the Great Tree Moon**

The festivities would continue for a day or two more, celebrating the start of the new year and upcoming blessings. Too wrapped up in their colorful garb and merry moods, the crowds didn’t notice as she walked to the docks of the Golden City. 

The merchant regarded her with an amused twinkle in his pale eyes. “I did not think that you would keep your word, Därilaisa.” 

He was trying to get a rise out of her. “Well, I did, and I also plan to keep the second half too,” she said, turning her nose up. 

“Oh, I should hope so. I wouldn’t want my head separated from my neck at the hands of your warlord father,” he said with a placid smile. 

That same placid smile remained as she situated herself in their shared cabin and they departed. 

“Rest now, Därilaisa. The road ahead of you is long.” 

☼

“So that is the Adrestian Empire?” she asked, a bit of awe in her voice. 

“Yes, the capital city of Enbarr,” the Merchant answered, puffing on a long pipe. 

“It’s smaller than home,” she muttered defensively, a pout on her lips as she saw the pinpricks of light reflected on the water of the inky sea. 

“Bigger or smaller does not matter, Därilaisa,” he drawled, watching her bristle at the nickname, “You are home no longer. This is a great unknown and you have no idea on where you are and what pieces you have.” 

“I have you, for now. I’ll keep getting more and more pieces, and remove anything in my way,” she declared, her green eyes drinking in the Enbarr skyline like a beggar dying of thirst. 

The Merchant hummed, “I am curious to see your growth, Därilaisa.” 

Dawn bloomed in lavender behind her. 

☼

It had been sometime since the Merchant had come to Enbarr, but one of his friends had put up her villa for sale; he went ahead and bought it, saying that they would need a base of operations to prepare for their travels in the coming years. 

When she asked how he could afford such a lavish home, he only gave her a wry grin and said several powerful people owed him favors in the Empire, and that they did not have to worry. 

“For the first time in your life, you will be able to sleep soundly, Därilaisa.” 

The vast open spaces of the villa felt like a gaping maw swallowing her whole. She doubted she would. 

The next morning he asked her if it was homesickness that had her looking so restless and tired. 

She scoffed and picked at a plate of eggs. 

“I keep thinking that they’ll realize I’m gone, and that they’ll drag me back home,” she admitted, splitting the yolk of the egg. 

“You’ve crossed the sea during the busiest time of the year in any country. I imagine they’re only now just realizing that you have gone,” the Merchant told her, “And you left without a trace. No one but you and I know where you are, and who you are.” 

She sighed and put the fork down, “I know you are right, but I still feel like they’re right behind me.” 

“They are not. So stop your sulking, and get ready. You have to earn your keep.” 

She scowled and hastily ate her breakfast. 

☼

The Merchant, or as he was known in the markets, the Alchemist, taught her his trade and put her to work. 

First with taking stock of all that they had. He praised her neat penmanship, and her need to have things tidy. They would work well together. 

He gave her a set of blank journals and graphite before taking out his own worn, leather bound journal. 

“Start copying what is in this journal into yours. They said that you were a quick study in the court of the Golden City. Let us put that pretty head to use, then, hm?” he had told her. 

She grinned and took the journal from him, opening it up to the first page and pausing. “I thought you were an alchemist? Why so many notes on plants? And why so detailed?” she asked, flipping carefully through the pages. 

“There is no use in mastering only one thing, Därilaisa. Better to be great in several things. Botany, the study of plants, is useful in brewing a whole host of things, from tea to toxins. Alchemy is adding magic to the brew and turning it into something else entirely. Medicine is a combination of the two and applying it to healing the body, and assassination is on the other end of that spectrum,” he explained patiently. 

“You’ve made poisons then?” she asked, looking up from the journal. 

“That and much more.” 

“Well then, I have much to learn.” 

It took her the better part of a week to copy the journal in its entirety. The drawing had thrown her for a loop, and she was determined to skip it, until the merchant showed her two plants that were similar enough but one would kill you and the other was just an herb. 

She ended up spending a whole day just foraging and drawing in the garden. 

Once she was done he tested her knowledge as he began to set up a little shop in the market district of Enbarr. 

Then came all the shipments: jars, barrels, boxes, bottles in all shapes and sizes, brown paper packages tied up with string, crates, all filled with an equal variety of contents to match their containers. 

When he finally opened his travelling trunk she was unexpectedly excited. A set of scales, a set of brass weights, measuring scoops of all shapes and sizes, a marble mortar and pestle, a marble cutting board to match, knives of all kinds, a small burner, glass measuring cups. 

He smiled indulgently as she asked what they were all for. Her curiosity and eagerness to learn endeared her to him. Years of accumulated knowledge, and she gorged herself on it all, like she would die if she was not allowed to learn it. 

He told her to go get the second journal, and presented her with a red journal of his own. “I’ll make a witch out of you yet, Därilaisa.” 

She laughed. 

The next two months were spent with her learning how to make all of the recipes in his red journal: creams, concoctions, oils, tinctures, perfumes, pastes, elixirs, draughts, pomades, ointments, capsules. 

He found that she had a head for numbers, no abacus needed. So when she was done learning potions, and alchemy, she was to learn the perilous art of selling and trading. 

He taught her how to discern quality from imitation. How to haggle, trade and the art of selling. How to have a keen eye for rare items, and how to invest and accumulate wealth and reinvest it. 

They traveled through the south of the Empire, the Kingdom and the Alliance. Each place showing her new sights and sounds. Things she would have never known in the Golden City. 

When they went to Derdriu, the Alchemist saw that she was nervous. “No need to fret, Därilaisa. You’ll probably fit in here more than in Faerghus.”

“I fit in just fine when we were in Gaspard.” 

“That’s because Duscari blood runs thick there,” he said, nodding at the men at the gates of Derdriu, “Here, everyone is from anywhere and everywhere.”

Though they couldn’t stay too long in Faerghus. Not after the Tragedy. Her dark skin covered under long sleeves, gloves and cloaks. 

“Well, then, how long are we staying?” she asked, directing her horse in the direction the Alchemist indicated with a tilt of his head. 

“Just before the end of the year,” he responded, “I have an old friend I need to visit for a bit.”  
  


She had a sneaking suspicion that this was the friend whose villa they bought in Enbarr. “Are you going there just to gloat?” she asked, amazed by the sheer pettiness of the man.

“Well, of course.” 

She met the Lady Witch and her adopted son, who was very much not interested in the comings and goings of two adults nipping at each other through thin smiles (though she figured it did amuse him as much as it did her). 

The Lady Witch and the Alchemist just kept sending them on various errands to keep them out of the house and so Miklan, her son, could show her around Derdriu. 

Miklan was gruff and silent for the most part. He asked how things were in the other countries, and if the Alchemist was treating her right, if they were headed back to Enbarr next. She was happy enough to fill the silences between his questions. 

Asking him how long had he been with the Lady Witch, how was Faerghus when he was a child, did he like Enbarr and could he and the Lady Witch visit them some time soon? If he wanted, she could make something for the scars on his face. They would fade in a year or two. 

She didn’t mention that the small jar of ointment cost a ransom, and could only really be made at certain times of the year, when all the ingredients were fresh. It easily made several times more than her other mixtures. 

He shook his head, saying that he wouldn’t waste her product on his face. She huffed and said that it wouldn’t be a waste as he was rather handsome. He arched a brow at her, and she quickly changed the subject. 

They left on a ship before the new year, sailing back to Enbarr and with a warning from the Lady Witch that they had better take good care of her villa. 

She sighed as they disappeared from view. 

“What has you sighing now, Därilaisa?” the Alchemist teased, “Could it be that young Miklan has caught your fancy?” 

She could strangle him as she felt the red rise on her cheeks and he laughed. She didn’t mention the fine carving tools she had gotten him, or the carved silver dagger he had given her. 

**1177- 21st day of the Great Tree Moon**

She had grown accustomed to her life with the Alchemist. That had been her first mistake. The second was getting distracted while she shopped in the market districts of Enbarr. 

The cutpurse had tried to make off with her money and she got a dagger to the shoulder. She quickly sunk in her own dagger in his gut with a flash of light. A woman screamed. 

The guards dragged the both of them to hold in the cells. Though, she was placed in one by herself, because she was a lady. When the guards came by for a healer and found no wound, the men whispered amongst themselves and left again, leaving her befuddled. 

One of them brought her a novel from Faerghus to read, as she wasn’t being loud or rowdy. She would take what she could get. Perhaps they went to fetch the Alchemist? She had been recognized as his apprentice. 

When the guards came back, it wasn’t with the Alchemist, but rather a gray haired gentleman, and a tall lady by his side. She was awfully pretty, with deep brown curls set with little pearl pins, and lovely dove gray eyes. There was a certain air about her, that reminded her so much of her own mother. 

“Alright Miss,” the guard said, unlocking the door as she snapped the book shut, “You’re free to go.” 

She smiled and handed the book back to him, walking to the pair. 

“So, my dear, tea?” the lady offered, smiling serenely.

☼

They sat in the private parlor of a tea shop, with a small selection of pastries and a fragrant rose tea. 

“Now, my dear Duchess, if I may?” the older gentleman asked. His way of speaking was rather refined. Perhaps a noble as well, or maybe a scholar of a sort. The Duchess nodded. 

The gentleman directed his undivided attention to her, honing in with sharp blue eyes. “So, young lady, we heard from the Duchess’ handmaiden about a rather particular incident that happened in the market today. Though, of course, there’s no need to recount all that. In short, Miss, you activated your Crest.” 

She played the part, tilting her head, furrowing her brow, “My Crest? I’m afraid I don’t follow, sir.” 

“Oh, no. It’s quite alright,” he said jovially, taking a sip of his tea. “We heard that you were the only child of a merchant. I daresay you are rather lucky.” 

He cleared his throat and continued, “My name is Hanneman, and I am a Crest Scholar, but to answer your question Crests are manifestations of power itself, granted to us by the Goddess. They allow the bearer to use that power and accomplish wondrous feats.” 

She drew in a soft, short breath. “I see. This is about my wound, I presume?” 

“Yes! I’ve never seen a crest with such a power myself! The Crest of Riegan is said to do something similar, but of course the Alliance is so secretive and untrusting. They would never let me get a sample of blood from the Sovereign Duke,” he lamented. 

“I’m sure,” she said dryly. The Duchess cracked a smile. 

“So what is it that you want from me, because of the Crest?” she asked. 

“Well, if it is alright with you, I would like a sample of blood and hair‒” he was cut off by the Duchess holding up a palm. Hanneman cleared his throat, a tad flushed. 

“Before we get to that, my dear Hanneman, Miss, Crests are also a symbol of status all over Fódlan. In many places and noble houses the crestless cannot inherit lands or titles. Some families go to ruin without one. Of course, that is why I wanted to speak with you today,” the Duchess explained, gripping the handle of her teacup a tad tighter than before. 

“You do not have a child that bears a Crest,” she said softly. 

“I do not. I have three children and none bear a Crest. My body cannot handle another pregnancy. My husband has lost hope.” 

She placed a sympathetic hand over the Duchess’.

“But if I could have you, as my child, then it would be fine,” she said, in a hopeful whisper. 

“I… I’m sorry? I’m afraid I‒ What?” she asked, bewildered. 

“Adoption, my dear girl,” the Duchess said, clutching her hand. 

“I’m sorry but my uncle‒” 

“Anything. I will pay him anything he wants.” 

She gasped and withdrew her hand, pensive. “I still have to speak with him, Your Grace. I’m sure he will consider your proposal. I hate to be rude, but I must go.” She gave a small curtsy and all but ran from the tea shop. This was… unexpected. 

She discussed it all with the Alchemist into the early hours of the morning. He would hear out their proposal and consider it. It was time to rest for now. 

Her eyes shut and she sighed into her dreams.

☼

_She was on those same ashen plains as before. No. This was snow. She had seen it for the first time last winter._

_She looked down at herself, five years old with pudgy hands holding a slingshot and a bag. She knew that it held diamonds, bright like stars against the black velvet._

_This wasn’t right. She was not a child anymore._

_“I have grown.”_

_And so she had, and so she would._

_She grew, hair and limbs growing longer, a dress and cloak swathing her against the bitter cold. The slingshot and velvet bag melted into a silver bow with a quiver of diamond tipped arrows._

_A massive black horse trotted beside her, stopping to nudge her away from the looming black forest before her._

_“We have to go in,” she said to it, stroking the beast’s neck. It had a brilliant red mane and tail. How odd._

_It let her on, and tried to lead her away as she saw a flash of red._

_“No, come on!” she said, gently nudging her heels into the horse’s side and tugging the reins._

_They followed the red flash right off a cliff._

She gasped awake as the Alchemist was shaking her. They had slept most of the day away and had an invitation to dinner with the von Gerths. While he wrote a missive that the young miss was unwell and that they could not make it, she wrote a letter to the Lady Witch and Miklan, explaining what was going on with them. 

The Alchemist added that they would accept their offer on a condition.

“I don’t think that they’ll pay that,” she said, looking at the Alchemist. 

“That’s the point, Därilaisa.” 

The next morning she woke up and there was a knock on the door. She opened it to a small page followed by a set of guards. 

The page announced that they were here to meet with the Alchemist and his ward. Hearing the commotion the Alchemist came forward and welcomed them into the villa. 

The page told them that he came with the payment. The guards walked in and dropped off five chests. The merchant was barely able to catch her before she fainted. 

☼

The Duchess eagerly greeted them as they walked in, taking their arms and steering them to a small garden just outside of a lovely sitting room. 

“I want to thank you for coming. I know I was a bit forward with my approach, but we are rather desperate,” she explained, taking a seat at a table already set with a tea service and pastries. 

The Duchess explained that her son was to marry a Crest bearing girl from the Bartels family, but they were slaughtered in a gruesome massacre last year. 

They had the money, but they also needed a Crest to maintain their prestige and reputation among the other high ranking noble families of the Empire. 

“So then, you would have her marry your son?” the merchant asked. 

“No! Oh, Goddess above, no. Your lovely daughter is far too young for him. I should like to adopt her as my own,” the Duchess explained, calmly taking a sip of her tea, “She would want for nothing. I would take her under my wing to become the next Duchess von Gerth.”

“I see,” though the Alchemist seemed unconvinced. 

“I fully intend to have her educated and taught how to be a proper noble lady. When the time comes for her to marry, I will find her a husband that treats her as she deserves. Though of course, there is some time before that all comes to pass, education, attending the Officer’s Academy, courtship and a wedding,” the Duchess continued. 

The Alchemist nodded, seeming to be agreeable to this, “I see. Därilaisa?” 

She paused, warming the tips of her fingers against the warm porcelain of the teacup. After a tense moment, she responded.

“I accept.” 

The Duchess was elated. She invited them both to stay for dinner, which the Alchemist refused as he had a meeting with a client, but she could stay.

After the ladies bid him farewell, the Duchess called for Hanneman, an attorney, and a dressmaker. They would settle this as soon as possible. 

She met the Duchess’ youngest children, a pair of boy-girl twins named Liesel and Leonel, who looked up to her with bright blue eyes and were excited at the prospect of an older sister. 

The Duke and his son, Siegfried, arrived about an hour later. The Duke was surprised to see them, and skeptical. He gave her an ice cold shoulder that reminded her of her first winter. Seigfried seemed to hate her outright and stormed to his room. 

Hanneman arrived just before dinner, and greeted them warmly. The Duke was impatient, but so was Hanneman. He brought forward a peculiar device and explained that it would not hurt her. 

She had her doubts. 

He had a notebook and pencil ready when she placed her hand in the machine. It made a strange noise and it glowed, showing a curved line with spikes protruding from it and two stars beneath it. 

Hanneman was sketching madly, muttering to himself. “No doubt about it! She has a Crest. A major Crest at that!” 

All at once, Duke von Gerth’s chilly manner melted under the warm sun of the Crest of Chevalier. 

**1177 - 3rd Day of the Garland Moon**

After that it was all formalities. The adoption papers were signed, stamped and sent to all relevant parties. 

In a flurry of signatures, seals, and wax, her old name was sealed away, and she was given a new one. Eislynn Soleil von Gerth. 

She didn’t know why, but she thought that she would at least get to keep her own name. 

The Duchess let them have a day together before she was to go to the von Gerth estate. She packed up her things that she could not leave behind. 

She hugged him tight before she was to depart, whispering to him. “Say hello to them for me.”  
“Keep following your road, Därilaisa. You will get what you need along the way.” 

The Alchemist gave her the deed to the villa before he left. “A parting gift. So you may have your own place among all the strangers of Enbarr,” he had told her. 

Then he left her. 

☼

**1177 - 8th Day of the Horsebow Moon**

The Duchess helped settle her in. Showing her around the estate, and taking her to her rooms. She would have a bedroom, a parlor and a bathroom all to herself in this enormous manor. 

The rooms were very pretty, feminine. Her things were stored in a trunk in the room. 

The Duchess allowed her to write to the Lady Witch and Miklan. So she did, though she never received a response. Perhaps they were withholding the letters. Still, it felt nice to let it all out. 

Now it was time for a different set of formalities. 

The Duchess assumed that because she was the child of a merchant that she had some skill in conversation and etiquette (she did). All that was left for her to do was refine her, polish her and her skills to a gleaming shine. 

She was given tutors of all sorts, not that she needed them most of them. One demonstration and they would know that she was skilled, surprising the noble family quite frequently. She explained that her mother wanted her to learn these skills before she went to travel as a merchant, as her mother wanted her to marry well. 

The Duke and Duchess were pleased. 

Whatever lessons she _did_ have to take were mastered swiftly. 

And when she started showing an interest in international trade, well the Duke indulged her as he indulged his wife. Lavishly. 

She secured them trade with the Alliance that saw them earn back her dowry price several times over. 

Then she was invited to court. 

And that invited a whole slew of problems. 

She had yet to be presented to the Imperial Family and the Adrestian court formally. The social season had just finished, on the thirteenth day of the Verdant Rain Moon; the Duchess deciding that she would be presented at the when she came back from the Officer’s Academy. The reason being that the awkward and terribly eccentric Bernadetta von Varley had not yet been presented either, thus she would look much better by comparison (and if the rumors that the Duchess had heard were correct, then the engagement between the Aegir boy and Varley had been dissolved). 

Etiquette demanded that she be presented before she could attend anything in public society. 

She didn’t have a court dress. 

They would have to travel to Enbarr. 

They couldn’t hold a formal ball after her presentation.

So they were in a bit of a bind. 

That is until the court and the Imperial Household stated that they would grant her a special debut, just for her. There wouldn’t be a ball for her, but she and the Duchess would take tea with the Imperial Princess, Edelgard.

The Duchess paid the seamstress extra to have the gowns and suits all ready in time. 

She still wrote to the Lady Witch and Miklan, even if they never wrote her back. 

This would distinguish her from all the other girls when the season began again. Not many received this honor. 

So she walked up the steps of the Imperial Palace, the Duchess at her side. Her gown _had_ to have a nine foot train, snow white with accents in the deep blue of House von Gerth. Pearls from Brigid and diamonds from Hevring encircled her neck and wrists, dangling from her ears, and pinned into her hair with a veil as delicate as the first frost of winter. 

A steward in clothes as black as pitch announced them, and she walked before the throne, the Duchess exactly three steps behind her. 

There was no Empress, not anymore. So she curtsied deeply to his Imperial Majesty, Ionius von Hresvelg IX, bowing her head. Her hands gripped her bouquet of soft pink peonies tight. Then took two steps to the right, and curtsied to the Emperor’s heir, the Imperial Princess, Edelgard von Hresvelg. 

The Imperial Court was standing behind them. The Duke among them. They were all stern looking men, quickly recounting them from memory when the Duchess taught her about who was who.

As she stood from her curtsy to the Princess, a tall man in cream and red robes stepped forward. She froze with the Duchess. 

“What a lovely young lady you are,” he said, tipping her chin up, “A pity I have no sons to wed. You would make for a striking addition to my family.” 

“Thank you, Lord Arundel. I hope you are blessed with the miracle of fatherhood sometime in the future,” she said, keeping her gaze downward, a tiny smile turned up the corners of her mouth. 

He cleared his throat and stepped back, returning to the line of court noblemen. She and the Duchess walked out. The ladies had to change into the proper attire, with the Duchess making sure that their court dresses were properly stored and shipped back to the house in Enbarr. 

Everyone was escorted to the dining room for a light, and uncomfortable supper once they were ready. Well, that was really Duke Aegir’s fault for attempting to politely interrogate her all through the meal. Though she felt like she at least amused the Duchess and Count Hevring with her witty and backhanded responses. 

The men left for whiskey and cigars in the library. Princess Edelgard and her were escorted to a parlor to take tea after the Duchess departed; she politely excused herself from the tea, stating that she wanted to get back to her younger children. The Princess had no qualms about it, at all. 

The Imperial Princess was quite unlike anyone she had ever met. It was like looking at one of the dance masks her mother had told her about as a child. Everything perfectly in place. Everything perfectly concealed. 

It made her curious. She wanted nothing more than to crack Edelgard open and see what she was really made out of. 

Her vassal, in all black as well, served them tea and cakes. Hubert von Vestra, if she remembered correctly. 

It seemed like Princess Edelgard was curious about her as well. She asked her about her life, though Eislynn was sure it was because Edelgard didn’t want to answer any questions about herself that weren’t idle pleasantries. 

Their idle chatter faded into the evening until it was time for her to go home. Princess Edelgard wished her happiness in her new life in the Empire. 

She _could_ be happy here. She figured as she climbed into the carriage and sighed as they departed the Imperial Palace. She could be happy as Duchess Eislynn Soleil von Gerth, new last name pending. Married to a lord with a vast estate and bear him crested children.

What a waste of a life that would be. As Därilaisa, she had escaped her cage and had flown right into the gilded cage of Lady Eislynn Soleil von Gerth. She should have stayed a merchant. It was the most freedom her life had allowed her. 

It was too late to go back now. 

Sighing again, she rested against the wall of the carriage, looking out to the lavender dusk, silver stars winking to life. 

When she awoke, it was to darkness. 

☼

Her head felt awful. Her body felt like it was burning from the inside out, like it had been stretched out, torn asunder, and stitched back together with thread made of hot steel. 

She heard muttering all around her, a strange hum, like a thousand bees all buzzing at the same low tone at the exact same time. 

“Fascinating. The subject has woken up even after receiving the transfusion. Its wounds are all healing at an accelerated rate.” 

Whoever was with her, pulled a metal rod from her limp mouth, moving to loosen straps on her ankles and wrists. 

“Incredible! Even bruising is healing at an exponential rate!” 

A door opened. Closed. 

“You’re too excited by this, Myson. It's just another beast. It just happens that this one is more resilient than the others,” another voice said. Female. 

The pain left her in waves; from the tips of her fingers and toes, pulsing inward, until the pain remained in her chest and dissipated. She felt like herself again, but altogether different as well. 

Now she could discern a little more about where she was. Laying on a cold metal table. A buzz all around her. Distorted bird chirps. 

She could feel the breath of the woman wash over her face. Cold fingers gripped her chin turning her this way and that.

“I don’t understand what you find so fascinating-” she jammed her fingers into the eye socket of the woman, and started to run when she screeched. 

The floor was freezing against her bare feet as she ran. Her steps echoed all around her. The walls illuminated by eerie blue circles and rectangles. 

She had no clue where she was. 

There were no windows. 

She rounded the corner and someone much taller and stronger than her, grabbed her by the arm and back of the neck. Darkness fell once again. 

☼

**1178 - Ethereal Moon**

When she awoke again, someone was dabbing at her forehead. It seemed like only a moment and an eternity when her eyes closed again. 

She dreamt of the black horse with the blood red mane and tail on the ashen plains. The wind buffeted them as they tried to get into the black forest. 

She dreamt of winding black hallways, the windswept plains, the endless blue of the sea and sky. The cry of seagulls. Wyverns. Pegasi. Horses, their hooves thundering with her heartbeat. 

She dreamt of the voice of her mother, smooth, like the fall of her red hair. The voice of her father, booming, echoing like a mountain storm all around her. Her brother, an ache for verdant spring, warm summer days and cool nights under fox furs. 

**1178 - 27th Day of the Ethereal Moon**

She woke with a gasp, someone was tenderly wiping at her damp brow and cheeks. Her head weighed a ton. She groaned, not wanting to open her eyes just yet. 

“No need to hurry, my lady,” the person said, “Take your time. You are still healing.” 

Healing? From what? She couldn’t remember anything beyond tea with the Princess. She took a shuddering breath as a cooling sensation washed over her. Faith magic, she supposed. 

A cool rag pressed over her eyes, and on her cheeks. “Can you try to open your eyes for me, my lady?”

The rag was moved, and her eyes opened. 

“There you are, my lady. I feared the fever would never break,” the healer said, pressing the rag to her neck. It may just be the fact that she had just woken up, but they were unfairly beautiful. 

They set aside the rag and helped her sit up, propping her up on fluffy pillows. She blinked slowly, looking up at the lovely healer. They smiled and pressed a hand to her forehead. 

“We’ll try some broth and water to start, yes?” 

She nodded, resting back against the pillows. 

What had happened? 

There was nothing. Speaking with the Princess. Black. Getting into the carriage. Black. Dusk. Black. 

A thrum. A thousand bees. Desolate songbirds. 

Black. Prick. Blood. Black. Cut. Slice. Black. Murmurs. Steel. Black. Blood. Blood. _Blood._

She gasped. She breathed deep, shuddering breaths. 

The door opened. The healer came back, with the Duchess who looked like she had been crying for the better part of a month. 

She rushed over and gently hugged her, stroking her head. 

“My lady, would you like to try to eat?” the healer asked. 

“Ah I am sorry. I am just in the way. But will she recover?” The Duchess asked the question she didn’t have the voice to ask. 

The healer nodded. “I am confident that she will make a full recovery. There may be some secondary effects that linger: fatigue, dizziness, fainting. Besides that, she will be completely fine. 

She exhaled, and smiled at them both, before catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. 

_What happened to me?!_

Her breaths came in short bursts and she screamed. 

She was dead. 

She had died in that darkness. 

She was a ghost. 

Pale, sickly, yellowish skin. Hair greasy and white. Eyes a lighter color. No freckles. Sunken cheeks. 

The Duchess wrapped her arms around her, trying to soothe her. 

The healer gently touched her forehead and she slept again. 

**1178 - 15th Day of the Guardian Moon**

It had taken some time, but she was better. 

Time in the sun had brought some color back to her cheeks. Her freckles never came back though, no matter how much she laid in the sun. 

The healer, Libra, was ever present by her side in her recovery. He helped her pen her letters to Lady Witch and Miklan in those first few months, when her hands shook terribly and her voice was little more than a rasp. 

She took her time and continued with her plans from her sickbed. 

The Duke gave her a pitying look as she asked to have trade documents and maps to pass the time. He indulged her though. 

She brought prosperity to House Gerth. 

The Duchess and Liesel brushed her hair, rolling it into curls, pinning it in different styles

The Duke bought her jewels and flowers. Leonel read her stories and sang her songs from the operas. 

When she was well enough, she would play on the piano for them. Learning the arias of operas she had never heard as interpreted by two nine year olds. It was rather amusing. 

Siegfried stared at her from doorways and across halls, dark intent swirling in heavenly blue eyes. 

In those moments, she thought of the dagger Miklan had given her years ago. Pulling it from its leather sheath, she traced her nails over the carvings. To think a man as big and as coarse as him could produce such delicate and beautiful work. 

She headed back to her rooms, stashing the dagger beneath her pillow. Its presence comforting. 

Truly, it reminded her so much of home. 

☼

By the time the new season rolled around, she was back to herself again. The Duchess was unsure if she should participate in the season. The heirs of Aegir, Bergliez, and Hevring were all going to various functions in Enbarr, where it would be the ideal time to make introductions and impressions. They would be vital in choosing her future spouse and father of her children. 

The Duke told the Duchess to let her rest a bit more. It was one season out of many, and there wasn’t that much competition anyways besides the Imperial Princess. The Nuvelle girl was dead. The Varley girl was a recluse. The daughters of Aegir were still a tad too young. Really, Eislynn would have her pick of a husband. 

To be honest, she wasn’t sure that she wanted to do all of those noble things for a few months in Enbarr, and then pack up and head back to the country estate. 

It seemed like a bit much. Especially when she was still fainting all over the estate like some maiden in the twins’ storybooks. 

Still, it seemed like a dream. To go to balls, dance all night. Go to the opera on the arm of a handsome lord. Go on picnics by the river. Receive gifts and flowers. Eat the best food that Enbarr had to offer. 

Instead, she told them to enjoy the season with their children. She would be fine at the country estate, and riding through the orchards would help her recover her strength. 

She wrote her letters to the Lady Witch and Miklan. Still, no response. 

  
  


**1178 - 23rd Day of the Harpstring Moon**

What surprised her was a visitor from the South. Hubert von Vestra, bearing flowers from the Imperial Princess. It was surprising enough, that she had reached to grab the dagger under her pillow. 

He placed them at her bedside table, calmly. A lovely arrangement of soft pink, blue, and purple blooms. He merely glanced at where her hand had reached and cleared his throat before bowing. 

“Were you expecting some other company, my lady?” he asked, in his soft voice. 

She gave a slight incline of her head in place of the curtsy she was not in the position to do, “Typically, a gentleman knocks before entering a lady’s room, but I see now that your hands were full. So I apologize for my...behavior.” 

“There is nothing to forgive, Lady Eislynn,” he said, “You can never be too cautious. Princess Edelgard sent you these, to lift your spirits, as she heard that you were ill and unable to make it to the season this year. I must say, the illness caused quite a change in your appearance since the last time we saw you.” 

She straightened a bit at that, and just about froze when she heard loud steps coming from down the hall. Hubert glanced at the door, hands tensed. 

The footsteps paused at her door.

“Well, I hear that Princess Edelgard is quite the trendsetter. I should very much like to be fashionable amongst the finest in Enbarr society,” she said, louder than was expected for a normal conversation. 

“Indeed, though I do not know if she would find it amusing if everyone else in the capital ended up having pale hair like hers,” he commented, the corners of his mouth quirked upwards, but it brought no warmth to his severe features. 

The footsteps began anew, and faded away.

“It was no choice of mine,” she said, meeting his gaze. He regarded her with what she believed was interest. A gloved hand gripped her chin, turning her face this way and that. 

“Siegfried von Gerth… Strange to think he would want to harm the only thing keeping his family from potentially losing their status,” he commented. 

“If someone, a total stranger, an outsider, usurped your place as Princess Edelgard’s vassal, would you just stand idly by as they took what you believe to be rightfully yours?” she asked in a soft voice. 

“Fair point,” he conceded, putting a hand to his chin in thought. 

“He is a coward though. He only stares and plots, never acts. He can only _wish_ for my demise.” 

“Understood. I have a trade proposition for you, Lady Eislynn,” clearly, he had made up about whatever he was thinking about. 

It was slightly concerning. She did not know what on earth she could possibly have to offer him or Edelgard. 

“What would you want, Lord von Vestra?” 

“A lock of your hair, my lady, nothing more,” he requested with a polite incline of his head, “In return, I shall give you this, to keep on your person.” 

He held out a simple silver dagger. 

A lock of hair could be used for so many things. She took her chances, and braided a lock of her hair behind her ear, cutting it with a pair of scissors he seemed to have produced from his coat. 

She placed the thin, silver braid into his hand. He tucked it into the inner pocket of his coat, “Thank you, my lady.” 

“Please give Princess Edelgard my thanks; the flowers are lovely.” 

“Of course. Good day, Lady Eislynn.” 

☼

When the season was over, the Duchess filled her in on the goings on of Fodlan while she was “ill.” A noble from Faerghus had vanished. Duke Riegan had been found dead with two merchants, and the previous Duke, Oswald the Old, was scrambling to find an heir (though the Duchess informed her that Duke Godfrey von Riegan was an infamous philanderer and was bound to have a crest bearing natural child running around in Derdriu, if not somewhere in the Alliance). There were whispers of a rebellion in Faerghus and in the Church. 

“It’s all terribly unsettling,” the Duchess fettered, her nerves, surprisingly enough, getting the best of her. 

Well, what was currently upsetting to Eislynn was Duke von Aegir’s ridiculous tariffs and the lengths she was going to to avoid them. 

  
  


**1179 - Great Tree Moon**

It was after the new year that the Duke officially recognized her as his heir, and Hubert von Vestra’s gift actually found some use. 

The announcement and paperwork were filed and Count Hevring inquired if she would be attending Garreg Mach the next year. Linhardt would be attending, as well as Caspar and Ferdinand. 

Eislynn had apparently become something of a topic among Enbarr society. The Duchess admitted to fanning the flames a little, adding some intrigue to her persona, while they were all having tea in the drawing room. 

The Duke said that a bit of intrigue before marrying her off would be good to get her good offers. He joked that maybe she would marry the von Vestra boy. 

Eislynn and the Duchess both choked on their tea, for different reasons. The Duchess was gasping in horror while Eislynn was laughing. The Duke patted his wife on the back, and assured her that he would marry Eislynn to Ferdinand von Aegir himself. 

None of them noticed that Siegfried had left in a huff. 

A few days later, Eislynn bid the Duke and Duchess farewell as some emergency had come up in Enbarr. Siegfried was, blessedly, at a party hosted by the von Aegir family. That gave her a few days to do some studying, and riding. 

That had been her first mistake. 

Siegfried had come back early.

Every slight, every comment, every shiny bauble, and doting word and scrap of affection that she had been taking from him he had stored away, tallying up a debt that he came to collect, when he had finally drank enough liquid courage to act on his rage. 

He found her sitting at a window, reading a book. She looked up, arched a brow and ignored him just as quickly.

When he threw a crystal tumbler at her, shattering on the wall besides her head she looked up slowly. He saw it. The sly fox that lurked under the sheepskin of sweet smiles and gentle words. She had everyone fooled. 

She sighed, like she was disappointed with him, sparing a glance at the decanter of scotch in his hands, “What are you doing?” 

“I’m going to kill you, you thieving brat!” he yelled, throwing the decanter on the ground, and charging right at her. 

She grit her teeth and threw the book right at his face, and made a mad dash to the door, slamming it shut behind her. She ran down the hall and towards the stairs, taking a few precious moments to pull the dagger she had strapped to her arm under her sleeve. 

Hearing his footsteps coming closer, she looked up and saw him standing there. She held out the dagger, daring him to come closer. Her other hand was behind her, feeling for the banister. 

Abruptly, she turned and on her heel and darted down the stairs, screaming for all the world to hear. She felt his hand swipe at her arm. 

He probably sent the servants away. Bastard. 

She heard his huffing breaths getting closer and closer. At the foot of the stairs, he managed to grab her, spinning her around violently, punctuated with a slap to the face. 

She gasped. There was a tear of silk and a silver dagger sliced through flesh. 

He stared at her in shock, his blood sprayed across her face, sleeve and hand. 

Siegfried… dear Goddess above… Siegfried… his _mouth_. 

She dropped the dagger in her shock and numbly stepped back before breaking into a sprint for the front door. She almost sobbed when she heard him chasing behind her. 

Her hands were slick with blood as she tried to open the door in her haste. She shrieked when she managed to get the door open as the dagger came down to sink into the wood of the door. 

The wood splintered as he pulled the dagger from the door, intent on burying it in her back next, one hand still holding his cheek. 

She ran up the driveway, skirts bunched up in her hands. He was still chasing after her, or rather stumbling. 

How pathetic. She slowed and sauntered back towards him. 

His drunkenness and pain was getting to him. He fell to the ground and she kicked the dagger away from his limp hand. 

“The next time you lay a hand on me, will be the last time you have hands,” she promised with a dark whisper. 

She picked up the dagger and stepped over him, walking back to the estate. 

If he knew what was good for him, he wouldn’t get up. If he knew what was going to let him live after this, he would be gone by the time the Duke and Duchess returned. 

As she walked, she let the tears fall, placing the dagger back in its sheath. She was the picture of feminine distress as she fell to pieces in front of the servants, sobbing her eyes out. 

Siegfried was gone by the time they went to go look for him. 

☼

The Duke and Duchess were furious and horrified respectively when they found out. They publicly disowned him, asking for a ransom if they found him, dead or alive. 

Eislynn was not to worry about these things, as she was to prepare for her year at Garreg Mach. 

She wrote letters. It was the only way to make herself feel better, like someone could listen, like her brother and caretaker back home. Even if there was no response. 

Libra came back to check on her. He assured them all that she had a fright, but nothing more than that. 

She went to Enbarr with the Duchess. They had to get all of her things for the upcoming year. 

Trunks, bedding, all kinds of clothes, for all kinds of occasions, several pairs of shoes, gloves, weapons (much to the Duchess’ displeasure), books, general supplies for school, a toiletries kit made for traveling, and so much more. The Duke even let her pick out a horse. She chose a beautiful buckskin, and thusly named him Cinnamon. 

The time in Enbarr was also littered with various invitations addressed to her. To the opera, to tea, to balls and soirees, brunch and tourneys, garden parties and lunches. 

The von Gerths decided to decline on her behalf, with only the Duke and Duchess attending. They made sure to speak about her and her accomplishments, adding to her appeal and _mysterious air._

It made her giggle when she thought about it, because it was _working_. 

The Duchess told her all of the city’s gossip over tea they shared. 

The Alliance had found an heir. The Duchess preened, knowing she was right. From what she could gather, it was a boy, Claude. Had the Crest and everything. 

She did everything to keep herself from sounding too curious or interested, taking a sip of her sweet apple blend. 

The girl from the von Ochs family had gone missing. Presumed to have eloped with some commoner, as no ransom had turned up. 

Which left her reputation thoroughly ruined. 

All in all, things were perfect for her after she graduated. All that was left was for her to attend and charm Ferdinand von Aegir into slipping an heirloom engagement ring on her finger. 

Liesel and Leonel were hesitant to have her leave for such a long time, especially since they weren’t allowed to see her off to the school. 

The Duchess had gone a little overboard, and well, it would literally be just her and all of the things they had bought. 

She wrote a letter to Miklan and Lady Witch, detailing where she would be, and wondering where they were. She hoped that they would stop during the year at Garreg Mach and wished them the best in their travels. 

She sent the letter the day before her departure. 

She laid in bed, too excited to sleep, and occasionally she got up and paced. She sat on the window seat, looking at the crescent moon in the sky and wondering if her brother was looking at the same thing at this very moment. Her heart throbbed with longing. 

Tomorrow would be a new day, and a new start. 


	2. ViViD

_ Color me with vivid colors, _

_ All day, I’m laughing  _

_ To the point where my heart pounds.  _

**1180 - 5th day of the Great Tree Moon**

Garreg Mach Monastery was a sight. Its tall spires seemed to touch the sky and burrow under the ground into the depth below simultaneously. Wyverns and pegasi circled overhead and she sighed. 

She was travel weary and wanted nothing more than a nap. Her head ached something fierce. She sat back in the carriage, closing the curtain and her eyes. 

It only seemed like a fleeting moment before one of the footmen announced that they had arrived. She softly thanked them, and rubbed at her eyes for a moment, and slipped on her gloves. She gave them instructions to drop her things off and rest for the remainder of the day before they headed back to the Empire. 

The footmen helped her out as she looked out onto the reception hall. She was directed by one of the nuns to her room to the girls’ dormitory. She thanked her, but almost instantly regretted it when she saw her trunks piled outside of her room. 

She tried to pull one of them into her room, not managing to move it an inch and instead fell back into her room with a yelp. 

With a frustrated growl she stood up and stomped over back to her luggage, then she noticed the really tall girl with lavender hair who had most definitely seen all of that. 

“Uh, hello!” she greeted, quickly smiling, and curtsying to the girl. “I’m Eislynn Soleil von Gerth, from the Adrestian Empire.” 

“Oh. I’m Maisie,” she paused, blinking slowly and bowing, “From Faerghus.” 

“A pleasure to meet you, Maisie,” she looked over to her luggage, “You wouldn’t happen to know someone who is strong enough to move these  _ into _ my room?” 

Wordlessly, Maisie picked up one of the trunks and carried it in. “How do you have so many things?” she asked, setting it inside. 

“Practice.” 

“Oh. Okay.” 

Eislynn watched as the girl effortlessly put away the trunks into her room one beside the other. 

“So, Maisie, did you want to get something to eat?” she asked the girl. It seemed rude to just not give her something in return. 

Maisie paused a moment before shaking her head, “Sorry. I have to tend to Little Apple.” 

“Ah, I won’t keep you then, but I’d like to thank you for helping me out,” she said with a sincere smile, “I’ll see you around.” 

Maisie gave a curt bow before walking to the stables. 

She went back into the room and started unpacking. She placed her uniforms in their drawers, arranged some knick-knacks. She would love some flowers in her room. That would be a little later.

She put away her school supplies in the desk, putting the journals away in the drawers of the desk. She made her bed and flopped back onto it. 

She was tired, but she wanted to greet the Princess and Hubert. She sighed and got up. Just get through this, and then she could rest. 

After freshening up a little and changing into her school uniform, she made her way over to the Black Eagles’ classroom. 

It was just tedious paperwork, and she had been doing a lot of that over the past few months. It wouldn’t take her too long to get it all done. 

She greeted Princess Edelgard and Hubert politely, before Edelgard told her that it was fine to drop the formalities while they are at Garreg Mach for the year. She flushed and nodded, agreeing to Edelgard’s request. 

She took the little diary and booklet that would have the Officer’s Academy schedule and went to one of the desks to start on the paperwork. Once finished, she gave it back to Hubert and left the classroom. 

Maybe she would wander about for a bit. Get some food. They said the dining hall had good thin- 

Her train of thought was interrupted when she saw a shock of bright red hair a good foot above everyone else’s head. 

“MIKLAN ANSCHUTZ?! Is that you?!” she exclaimed. The tall figure flinched and turned to find the source of the yelling. When she saw that wide scar and aquiline nose, she ran over to barrel into him. Not that he could have felt it, she was tiny compared to him. 

“Sage? What in the world are you doing here?” the tall man asked. It seemed like he had only grown in their time apart. 

“Oh, well,” she grimaced with a smile, “It’s a long story.” 

Miklan sighed, which was more of a loud rumbly huff, and looked her over. He was quite confused, but the look on her face kept him from asking any questions.  “Is Lady Witch with you?” she asked, looping her arm through his as easily as their time in Derdriu. 

“Yeah, she got in on the merchant’s lottery,” he explained, walking with her to the market without a second thought, much to the astonishment of the other Blue Lions. 

She spent the afternoon catching up with Lady Witch and Miklan at the woman’s stall, and Miklan walked her back when the sky was growing dark. 

☼

The next day brought about more new acquaintances. More and more students were arriving at Garreg Mach Monastery, and Edelgard had tasked her with making sure that all of the female Black Eagles checked in, and Hubert would check in the male students. 

As one says, many hands made for lighter work. The Archbishop’s assistant, Seteth, even praised them for their teamwork. Apparently, the Blue Lions and the Golden Deer were a bit behind and chaotic. 

It was in those days that, well, many colorful characters were introduced to her by Hubert, formally. 

The first was Ferdinand von Aegir. She finally understood Hubert’s scathing commentary of the young man before he introduced her. While he was gentlemanly, he was also awfully obnoxious and oblivious, which was an irritating combination to say the least after spending too much time together. 

After him was Dorothea Arnault. A commoner turned renowned diva of the Mittlefrank Operahouse. She seemed defensive, for lack of a better word. She was aware of what people said about her, and not all of it was kind. Eislynn found her to be quite a marvel and a comfort. Unkind things were being said about her as well. 

Petra McNeary was lovely and polite, but in such sad circumstances for someone so young. Her grasp of Fodlani was almost there, but it just required a bit of refinement. She was quite impressive for someone so young. Though praising her just made her flustered it seemed. 

Caspar von Bergliez and Linhardt von Hevring arrived next and to say they were as different as sun and moon would be the grossest understatement of the century. Opposite in everything, even height, she would have thought that the two would be sworn rivals, but they were the best of friends. It was rather sweet. 

She made a promise to join them for a meal sometime, as they were both curious about the new girl. Linhardt for her Crest, and Caspar just wanted to be friends. Perhaps they were more similar than she originally thought? 

When a sack arrived containing one terrified Bernadetta von Varley, Eislynn had no idea what to think. She turned in her paperwork by sliding it through the gap between the door and the floor. Edelgard just sighed. 

When it came to the other houses, Eislynn was sure they would be a little more put together than the Black Eagles, and she could not have been more wrong. 

The Blue Lions seemed to be teetering on some knife point that would implode if that delicate balance was ruined in any shape or form. There were a couple of commoners in the house, one of which was the Prince’s vassal. Which she found odd. The Duchess stated that the right hand man of the Royal Family of Faerghus was usually a Fraldarius. 

Though Fraldarius seemed like a particularly prickly little pear, so she had no reason or desire to get close to him in any capacity. Maybe that’s why the Prince picked a commoner. They probably had more manners. 

The vassal himself seemed like a mountain of a man. And she had always thought Miklan was big, but Dedue was something else entirely. He was stoic and seemed like he could snap her in half over his knee with little effort. Sure he looked a little scary, but she was sure that like Miklan he was just a hard shell with a gooey center. 

The Prince himself seemed to have walked out a fairy tale book and it was just  _ so unfair. _ She hadn’t met him formally, but she’d heard enough with Dorothea from girls who giggled and blushed in the halls. She would have transferred immediately to the Blue Lions class if it weren’t for one person. 

Sylvain Jose Gautier. Dorothea had warned her about him. Insufferable ladies man, and just a dirty dog in general. A noble with money, a Crest, and good looks, and he had just about every girl that looked his way. And then some. Even after being engaged to Maisie, she found out. 

“Honestly, Sol. Avoid talking to him at all costs. Don’t even look at him,” Dorothea had advised her, like a cautious older sister, “If you have to sit next to him, just move and don’t acknowledge it.” It was sound advice.

Dorothea had most of her attention taken up by one of the girls in the Blue Lions, Ingrid. Eislynn really didn’t see why Dorothea liked her, because Ingrid seemed standoffish. Just to her, it seemed. 

Annette and Mercedes were far sweeter and welcoming. Mercedes was worried about her sudden rise to nobility, and was willing to lend her an ear if anything was troubling her, which Annette also volunteered herself to. She expressed her thanks and promised to take tea with them when they found the time. 

Maisie didn’t really seem to have much on her mind at any point in time, but that was fine by her. The tall girl was awkward and still probably growing into her, quite frankly, impressive height. She was nice and obliging though, always willing to lend a hand. 

Ashe was another sweet soul in the Blue Lions. He was so earnest, it almost made her heart hurt. She promised to show him the finer points of managing territories and supplies sometime during the year. He was probably one of the more sensible in the Blue Lions house. 

Which was more than she could say for the Golden Deer. Now, if the Blue Lions were ready to fall apart at the seams with one ill timed comment, the Golden Deer had already set the entire house ablaze. It was probably only by a miracle of the Goddess herself that they hadn’t done so literally. 

Their enigmatic and charismatic leader was the new heir to House Riegan, Claude. A young man of many mysterious smiles and teasing winks. He was doing a poor job of quelling people’s curiosity about him, as well as the rumors that surrounded him. She had a sneaking suspicion that he had started some of them. 

Then there was possibly the most obnoxious and snobbish brat in all of Garreg Mach, beating out even Sylvain, who at least talked to everyone. Lorenz  _ Hellman _ Gloucester. Everything about him seemed to just irritate her on some base level. He offered an initial politeness, but to him, her and Dorothea were not more than that initial greeting. 

Hilda seemed sweet, but Eislynn could see the fox lurking underneath that ditzy exterior. Eislynn helplessly watched as Dorothea exchanged catty barbs disguised as pleasantries with Hilda with a sweet smile. She felt like this was a good lesson in politics and how she would have to conduct herself in court. 

In contrast, there was Leonie, a hard working girl with a good head on her shoulders. She had been trained by a famous mercenary named Jeralt, and was going to follow in his footsteps to pay back her village. Eislynn promised to use her services for her trade goods once they graduated. 

Marianne was more skittish than a nervous horse, so she didn’t really know much about her. She seemed like a devout girl, but she always seemed so sad. Those dark circles under her eyes had her thinking that maybe something was tormenting her. She would leave her be for the meantime. 

She met Rafael through Miklan, when they were heading back from their morning training. At the crack of dawn. She had been going out for a ride, saying that the roads were empty and she could ride her horse without worry. Rafael was energetic even in the early hours, so she enjoyed a lively breakfast with him and Miklan. 

Ignatz she ended meeting through Rafael, who introduced them at breakfast. He was polite and kind of shy. Not really fitting his aspirations as knight. Apparently, his older brother would be inheriting the family business. Though, she asked Ignatz if their family had considered expanding their business with two sons at the helm. One domestic and one international. Miklan groused that “It was too early for business talk.” 

Lysithea she met trying to sneak a third helping of cake. She kept insisting that she wasn’t a  _ child.  _ So much emphasis on that one word. She was still a kid, no matter how much she tried to puff her chest out. She was more like a cream puff. Looked all big on the outside, filled with a fluffy filling that was lacking and was rarely fulfilling. 

Now someone that truly took her by surprise was Cyril. Though, he was miffed at the fact that she had spoken to him at all. She thought he was rather adorable. Like a diligent little ant with a cute pout instead of a bite. 

☼

Edelgard came to her, Dorothea and Petra to plan a small birthday celebration for Hubert. Edelgard admitted that she was rather unoriginal when it came to Hubert as they were both accustomed to one another. 

“So what does Hubert like?” Dorothea asked, taking a sip of her tea. 

“Well, secrets for one, chess, coffee,” Edelgard listed off, pulling a strawberry tart from a tray laden with pretty pastries. 

“I can make coffee cake,” Eislynn offered, setting her teacup down after a small sip. The Hresvelg blend wasn’t as blissful as they had described.

“Coffee cake?” Edelgard asked, intrigued. 

Petra nodded, “Yes, I am having heard of it. A cake that is tasting well with coffee and some teas. It would be suiting with Hubert’s taste, as well as satisfying everyone for dessert.” 

“Alright then, Petra will tell the others and Dorothea will decorate the classroom with them. I’m sure I can keep him distracted while you all prepare,” Edelgard decided. 

They all agreed and set their plan in motion.

Before the sun came up in the morning, Eislynn was already in the kitchen, having been given permission by the chef and a note from Edelgard. 

Edelgard took Hubert into town, while Dorothea and the others decorated the classroom, including the reluctant Linhardt and terrified Bernadetta. 

Eislynn came in a few hours later, the fruit of her labors in her hands. Dorothea was so pleasantly surprised, as were the other Black Eagles. They seemed to forget that she was a commoner most of the time. 

“It is because you have such a noble air about you, Eislynn,” Ferdinand said with the utmost sincerity. 

“I agree with Ferdie,” Dorothea cooed, “You’re like a little princess~!” 

“Ah…” Eislynn struggled to find the words, “That’s way too many compliments! I just had a really good etiquette instructor. 

She knew Ferdinand and Dorothea would be ready to refute her words when Petra gave the signal that Edelgard and Hubert were back. 

It was a unanimous decision not to scream out “Happy Birthday!” (to prevent a hex being thrown their way). So they just stood with their gifts in hand, a banner above them reading “Happy Birthday Hubert” in Bernadetta’s spectacular handwriting. 

“Happy Birthday Hubert,” Edelgard said with a soft smile. 

Hubert’s lips quirked upwards, “Thank you, all of you.” 

They spent the afternoon in the class, chatting, eating cake and wondering what the others had gotten him. They were all rather lovely gifts. 

A pair of fine black leather gloves from Ferdinand. A book of dark magic spells from Linhardt. Some daggers from Caspar. A beautifully embroidered handkerchief from Bernadetta. A book of tactics from Petra. Dorothea sang to him from his favorite operas. Edelgard had given him his gift while they were out (a silver pocket watch). Eislynn brought him a board game from the east. 

It was a lovely time. 

☼

The term wasn’t set to start until the third week of the Great Tree Moon, but there was still plenty to be done around the monastery. Chores had to be divided out amongst all the students. Proficiencies and focuses had to be determined. Dormitory rooms and seating charts needed to be finalized. 

However, the class leaders were taken to do a special course to teach them how to handle their houses and would be out for a few days. So that left their second in command in charge of these final details. 

Edelgard was considerate, and actually left Hubert a list of what needed to be done, along with a note that said to give some of the other Black Eagles a portion of the tasks on the list and to not overwork himself. Unlike the Blue Lions, who had Fraldarius, and the Golden Deer, who had Hilda, but also Lorenz was butting in. 

Eislynn gave Hubert a pointed look while he was looking over the list, surprisingly, Ferdinand did as well. As such, the tasks left were divided amongst the three. 

She was in charge of finalizing the class seating and the girls’ dormitory check. Ferdie would look over equipment and materials and let Hubert know if they needed anything. Hubert would do the boys’ dormitory check, and compile it all together for Edelgard when she came back. 

Of course, them coming back after being ambushed by bandits in the middle of the night and then meeting Jeralt the Bladebreaker and his children apparently caused quite a stir. 

Especially because all three of the house leaders seemed to be fascinated by the Eisner twins, Byleth and Fayleth. Miklan was grumbling all the while about causing such a scene, and that was before he surprised her with the fact that all of the Eisner family would be hired on as teachers for the year. 

When she pressed him for details, he didn’t have any more. “Ugh, Miklan, you’re the worst gossip ever,” she complained, narrowing her eyes at him. 

“I ain't trying to gossip in the first place, ya brat,” he answered, stuffing a piece of steak in his mouth so he wouldn’t have to answer any more. She sighed and got up from the table, not really headed anywhere. 

The monastery was pretty boring, if she was quite honest. Well, not horseback riding, that was fun. Fishing and gardening were not. 

The library seemed appealing till Tomas told her that Seteth took out books that weren’t approved by the church and that just took all the wind out of her sails. The sauna seemed relaxing but it wasn’t open just yet. 

She wasn’t training until they told her she had to. So most of her day was spent being an extra weight for Raphael or Caspar to tow around, or to be Linhardt’s pillow while they watched Caspar at the training grounds. 

So when Edelgard announced that instead of the normal mock battle that happened at the beginning of the school year, Eislynn wasn’t too shocked. This would be par for the course with what Miklan had told her. 

Instead, Jeralt the Blade Breaker and the Ashen Demons would be evaluating all of their skills, independent of their houses. 

This, naturally, caused a cacophony of reactions. Some were confident, others nervous to the point of quaking, some nonchalant, others irritated that they had to do this. 

Either way, there was no disobeying someone with the epithet “Bladebreaker.” 

The house leaders were pulled aside and given the whole story to tell their respective houses. 

Jeralt, Byleth and Fayleth would each take a class to teach during the year, using this skill evaluation to decide on which one. This would give Hanneman more time to further his Crest research, and Manuela could work full time in the infirmary. Of course, they would still hold seminars from time to time. 

“What will the evaluation be on Edie?” Dorothea asked as they crowded all around her in the Black Eagles classroom. 

“Everything,” she said grimly. That caused a ripple of shock amongst all of them. 

She elaborated, “They’ve divided it up into three groups that all of the houses will participate in, no excuses. Physical skills, Magical skills, and Endurance skills.

“The first two are mandatory. Those will cover basic weapons, hand to hand, and of course magic. The last is optional, but some students will be suggested to join based on what the Eisner’s see throughout the day. Endurance is more about things such as heavy armor, riding and flying.” 

Edelgard spent some time answering any lingering questions. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> And welcome to my first fanfiction in literal years. :) I am very nervous. 
> 
> Thank you once again to DedizenofLight for letting me reference your work, your interpretation of a differently raised Miklan, and Lady Witch (whom I adore greatly)!
> 
> You can find me on Twitter [@roxxie_art](https://twitter.com/roxxie_art) (this is fairly new but I will try to keep it art and writing focused)  
> And my [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.me/roxxiemundar)  
> if you have any questions!


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